


Desperado

by starkercrossedlovers



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Anal Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25406467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkercrossedlovers/pseuds/starkercrossedlovers
Summary: Peter has heard about him--the desperado that comes into town and makes a ruckus before blowing out, and Peter is intrigued. He wants out of this tiny town and he's willing to go with the older man to make that happen.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 77





	Desperado

_Desperado_

_Sitting in a old Monte Carlo_

_A man whose heart is hollow_

_Gotta get up out of here and_

_You ain’t leaving me behind_

_I know you won’t, ‘cause we share common interests you_

_Need me, there ain’t no leaving me behind_

_Never know, no, just want out of here yeah_

_Once I’m gone, ain’t no going back_

Peter’s heard the rumors about the man in the old Monte Carlo; desperado, dangerous, _criminal,_ but he can’t bring himself to care.

The man rolls into town once a year, drinks himself blind, carouses and causes mayhem and then by the next morning, he’s gone.

Peter’s not sure what posses him, maybe it’s the echoing loneliness now that May is gone, maybe it’s the desperation to not spend another night in the streets searching for a safe place to sleep, either way he steels his nerves and approaches the man as he leans against the saloon wall, one boot propped against the other as he puffs at a cigar.

He clears his throat nervously and the older man looks up, gaze sliding over Peter slowly, a smirk turning the corners of his lips up, eyes dark and hungry when they finally meet Peter’s.

“Well, what can I do for such a lovely boy like you?” he asks teasingly, “Haven’t you heard? I’m _dangerous,_ just ask the kind hearted folks of this little shit hole.”

Peter grins nervously and shrugs a shoulder, his threadbare flannel barely warm enough against the cool fall day. He shivers and wraps his arms around himself, “I dunno about that sir, but I do know you won’t be here tomorrow and I want,” he stutters over his request, “I want to go with you.”

The older man’s eyes widen in surprise before he narrows them and studies Peter again. “How old are you kid?” he asks softly.

Peter frowns, “Old enough to know I don’t want to stay here anymore,” he snaps, flushing when the man looks at him in surprise and then shakes his head, smiling faintly.

“I ain’t taking a kid from his family—”

“I don’t have any family. They’re all dead. There’s nothing here for me anymore and I don’t want to be alone and starving on the streets. I work hard, I can cook and clean, just please,” he begs, chest tight as he struggles not to cry, “please take me with you.”

The man studies him for a long moment, bluish grey smoke swirling around his head, and for a moment all Peter can see are his dark, hungry eyes, glowing at him through the haze. The man pushes away from the wall and looms over him, fingers curling beneath his chin as he tilts it up, studying him closely.

Peter’s heart beats too fast, skin tingling where the man touches him and he finds himself arching toward him, the awareness that the man is ruggedly handsome and strong settling into his belly like a hot coal.

The man’s lips curl up to one side and he nods slowly, “Alright pretty, you can come with me,” he agrees, voice low and gravelly.

Peter grins and bounces in place, “Thank you sir! I promise I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you need!”

The man chuckles darkly and presses his thumb into Peter’s lower lip, “Oh pretty, I’m gonna hold you to that,” he whispers in a voice filled with dark promise and heat.

Peter flushes and glances away, heart thrumming with excitement; he’s finally going to be free of this damned town.

He’s getting out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s it pretty, take it,” Tony groans, hips slapping into Peter’s as he takes him from behind. Fingers curl cruelly into his hips, leaving more bruises that he knows will ache tomorrow—not that Peter’s complaining. He loves the marks and the ache that Tony leaves behind when he fucks him; it reminds him he’s alive, free and happy.

Peter shivers as Tony pulls his hips up and changes the angle of his thrusts so he’s grinding against his prostate with every thrust. Shards of pleasure splinter through him with every roll of Tony’s hips and he keens breathlessly, face presses into the mattress, Tony’s fingers tight in his hair.

The older man yanks on his hair, hauls him up and Peter cries out at the change, hips shuddering as Tony pounds into him.

“That’s it pretty, be a good boy and take it, that’s my pretty,” Tony croons, one hand skimming down Peter’s back and then between his cheeks to his hole where Tony’s splitting him open.

Peter’s vision whites out as Tony hooks a thumb inside him, tugging him further open, his other fingers curling to rub against his perineum ruthlessly. It’s far too much and Peter babbles, begging for an end, pleading with Tony to make it stop, his body betraying his words as he thrusts back into Tony’s hips.

The older man laughs breathlessly and slaps his ass, “Come on pretty, be a good boy and come for me,” he demands huskily. Sobbing, Peter arches into the hand that comes down on his ass again, fine tremors running over his limbs as he shivers along the razors edge of release.

Tony digs his nails into Peter’s hips and leans down to bite his neck, hips pumping forward, grinding deep and hard and Peter shudders, wails when Tony’s hand cups his cock and strokes him, hard and fast.

He comes, shuddering and moaning brokenly, collapsing onto his arms as Tony growls and pulls his hips higher, spreading him so he can watch where he’s split open, wet and pink and being filled by Tony’s massive cock.

Peter whimpers as his body protests the continued stimulation, shivering and shaking as Tony growls above him, thrusts growing sloppier.

“Fuck pretty, best goddamn decision I ever made,” he gasps, grinding against Peter’s prostate so he mewls and shudders, “taking you with me.”

Peter nods in agreement and keens when Tony gets his hand back on Peter’s cock, stroking him hard and fast as he pants, “That’s my good boy, come again for me,” he demands, and Peter can’t deny him because his cock is hard again, but he sobs at the liquid fire in his veins.

Tony bends forward and bites at his throat and shoulder, leaving marks all over his creamy skin as his hips pound into Peter’s. “Come on pretty,” he whispers in Peter’s ear, “come for me.”

With a harsh bite to his throat and a rough twist of his wrist on the overly sensitive head of his cock, Peter comes, screaming and shaking before his eyes roll back and his vision blacks out.

When things start melting back into his consciousness he feels Tony’s hips grinding into his as he groans, wet heat filling him. They lay together, panting heavily before Tony rolls to the side and tugs Peter close.

They lay in the stuffy air conditioned motel room, limbs tangled together, sweaty and satiated.

Tony’s fingers play with Peter’s sweaty hair, lips pressing to his warm brow with a low chuckle. Peter glances up to him with a lifted, querying brow.

“Best goddamn decision ever,” he murmurs, mirroring his words from earlier. Peter hums in agreement and snuggles closer, eyes falling shut.

They’ll be onto a new town tomorrow, hustling cards and poker, swindling rich men out of their ill gained riches before they disappear down the dusty roads, desperados riding into the sunset.

There ain’t nothing here for him, nothin except the man beside him, and that’s all he needs.


End file.
